Endless Rain: The Cross Children
by Reno Spiegel
Summary: I remember looking out, seeing tears in Mother's eyes, Dominique agape in wonderment, and Dad's head back, eyes closed, looking content...


Author's Note: My PS2's shot. Can't play the game and see what happened exactly. Going off sketchy memories. (Title's from the soundtrack. It's the song playing over the flashback scenes with Dauragon.)  
  
Sidenote: I've been switching between Frank Zappa and Pink Floyd. I've been eating saltines and E-Z-Cheese. Beware.  
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Endless Rain: The Cross Children  
by Reno Spiegel  
Dante@towernetwork.net  
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I came home and found her, lying in bed, with her eyes closed. At the time, I worked for some no-name video store, and after throwing my work hat on the table, I walked to her room, prepared to give her the injection she needed to keep up the fight against her illness, a rare thing that almost always ended in death.  
  
Well, working for Starstruck Videos, I only scraped the bottom of the pot and so I couldn't afford the best medicine. The hospital helped a bit, but they only gave me, as I said, the minimal care to keep her fighting. Not being as stupid as many thought, I had figured out the chemicals in the medicine and made my own, even administering the doses personally, despite the hospital saying, "Come back when you need more."  
  
I couldn't afford more, so I made my own, and it seemed to be working. You're probably wondering why I work at Startstruck if I can made my own medicine, right? Truth be told, it's a criminal offense these days to do such, and there sure as hell isn't a job that wants drug-specialists.  
  
When I left for work, I gave her an injection. When I got home, I did the same. So she was usually waiting for me with the window open for the bit of sunlight it allowed her through the day. Today it had been drizzling since about noon, seven o' clock and dark now, so she probably had it closed. As I trudged up the steps, I heard the first clash of thunder.  
  
I hate rain.  
  
I walked into her room and found her fast asleep, a book on the nightstand and the small lamp on. She'd been bedridden for months, only catching the outside world through newscasts that held nothing but bad news those days. Her medical kit was right next to the door in case of an emergency, and I swept it up on my way to her bed, where I knelt, grinned for a moment, and whispered to her.  
  
"Dominique...time to get up..."  
  
She didn't rouse, but I heard a smal crack from her barely-opened mouth, signifying she'd heard me. She was the heaviest sleeper in the world, I always teased her, but she always woke for me. I reached out gently and shook her, and her head lolled to the opposite side, the covers rustling.  
  
Something was wrong.  
  
Call it natural instinct, or call it brotherly love, but something was terribly wrong. Whenever she knew it was me who was attempting to wake her up, she would smile like someone who's just won the lottery and open her eyes immediately, but it was this time that her brows furrowed and she moaned lowly, then opened her eyes cautiously and looked around. My grin had faded into a frown of worry. I started to speak, but she cut me off.  
  
"Dauragon...it hurts..."  
  
'Mister Cross...it will take her slowly...the final hours will be filled with a most-immense pain...that will be the sign...'  
  
My face drained as I remembered the letter from the hospital a mile away. It would start with spells of unconsciousness, then pain. Immeasurable pain that would only come to her in her sleep, so no one would know without waking her up. And then, the final step, after months of a seemingly-normal life.  
  
Death.  
  
I shook my head as her eyes fluttered closed again. I wasn't ready to let her go, to let my sister pass on into Heaven yet. So much I wanted to tell her, do with her. I had always held some hope that her terminal illness, as foolish as I may sound, would just clear up and she'd wake up fine one day.  
  
I took action, throwing the blankets off of her -- dressed in one of her many sets of pajamas, the only thing she needed to wear anymore -- and hoisted her onto my back, not bothering to notice I didn't have my jacket on anymore. I turned and left the room, as fast and careful as possible, the voice in the back of my head telling me to forget it, put her down, and just call the police, but my logical side said she might just have the flu, and besides, since Dad died, the phone had been disconnected, and because I'd turned eighteen right before then, it was now my responsibility to provide the money.  
  
Down the stairs I went, and straight out the door. To this day, I'm not sure if I shut it or turned off the lights, but I remember breaking into a trot once we were outside. A mile to the hospital, a mile to walk. It would take thirty-five minutes at the least, even if I did run it would still take thirty. I was determined to save my sister, though.  
  
I don't know why I never thought to ask the neighbor, Mister Jersey, for a ride. I just kept jogging, taking the turns I knew and upping my pace down hills. In twenty minutes, it felt as though I were Atlas with the world on my shoulders, and I kept shifting my grip, but I never stopped moving until we got to the park with the fountain, a quarter of a mile from the hospital, and then I knew I was in trouble.  
  
Even with the rain-soaked ground and more pouring from overhead, Dominique shivering and gripping me, muttering whenever she woke up -- holding me tightly to get rid of the pain if she could -- I stopped dead in my tracks. I had forgotten, in my rushed daze, that it was dark and the Dogs resided here, a gang of leather-clad twenty-something punks who carried chains and brass knuckles that lived on the shabby Dog Street, often punching any random newcomer into the park.  
  
The leader, a man who I'd had dealings with over the medical chemicals before, sneered at me when he saw me coming, and our eyes met. Mine said, 'Leave me alone.' His said, 'Like hell I will.' Wrapping his three-foot chain around his hand, he smiled like we were best friends. "Well, hullo, Dauragon. Cripple sister ask for a piggy-back ride through the park?"  
  
I held my tongue. Saying anything meant a delay to fight him, a delay I wasn't going to risk, but he and his three-man posse walked toward me in an even, calculated line. Two of them had knives, one had his brass knuckles, and, of course, the leader had his chain. I had fought them before, but nothing too serious, and I usually ended up running off. That was because I'd been going to give the newly-mixed injection to Dominique.  
  
One of the guys with a knife walked up to me, leaned his face real close to me, and peered over my shoulder at Dominique. Everyone knew that my sister was terminally ill. Rumors spread like the plague. He clicked his tongue and shook his head, the smell of cigarettes and cheap whiskey reaching me. "Yer sister looks 'bout ready t'kick the bucket, Cross. Whatcha say I give 'er a good'n'fore she goes?" He reached out toward her face, and I stepped back, slapping his wrist away.  
  
It was as if I had just turned into a slug. They all appeared thoroughly disgusted and offended. The one right next to the boss clenched his brassies and snarled at me. They considered it a sin if you denied them what they wanted. I didn't care. I was taking Dominique to the hospital. As if I could, I tried to walk past the main line, between the boss and the man with his gleaming knuckles. They converged and blocked my path.  
  
The boss smiled gently at me, in that 'We're sorry you didn't get the job' way. "C'mon, Dauragon. Do us and yourself a favor. Leave your sister with us. We'll show her a real good time." He raked a finger across my left cheek, and I saw that he had one of those silver talon rings on it, his eyes soft and his voice pleading. "We won't hurt her...until we're ready."  
  
His chain was attached to a leather strap tied around his wrist, and I'm still not sure how I did it, but I grabbed the chain at the connection point, holding Dominique up with one hand, and side-stepped around him, sweeping my arm around his head in the opposite way, twice. When I came out of it, I was standing behind him, the tail end of the chain in my hand, his wrist pinned against the front of his neck, the body of the chain wrapped twice around it and some odd gagging noise coming from his throat.  
  
With a sudden revelation, I noticed I had just basically disarmed the most-feared thug in the city. I barked a hoarse laugh as he squirmed. "C'mon, Dog, I thought we were gonna have a real good time." His lackeys were balancing on the balls of their feet and looking around, as if lost. I nodded at them and gave the chain a bit of slack. His free hand hung at his side, perfectly aware he couldn't do anything. "Call 'em off."  
  
He nodded to the other three, and with a look of failure, they lowered their weapons and settled down. "Good boy," I murmured, tightening the chain again. "Take off your chain with your other hand and let me walk away. Call it...a ransom." I laughed again for no reason, feeling utterly miserable. This voice, it wasn't mine. It was some uncontrollable machine's. He did as he was told and I unwound the chain, gripping the leather end in my hand and backing away.  
  
It was still raining hard, lightning flaring up and showing me every move they made, but I turned and ran this time, tucking the chain into my belt, and radjusting my grip on Dominique. 'Hold on a bit longer...please.' In five minutes, running hard, I made it to the hospital, a fevered blonde sister still muttering over my shoulder. I banged hard on the door, calling out as loudly as I could. "Please open up! My sister! She's dying!"  
  
The door creaked open, then the emergency part took over the nurse and it flew open the rest of the way. The nurse, who must have been new because I'd never seen her, looked appalled, fumbling for words for a moment. Then she saw my sister and must have guessed who we were. "Oh, dear!" she gasped. "Where are your mother and father?" I just shook my head, panting, water spraying onto her robes. She turned around and looked inside, then glanced at me. "Uh... O-One moment."  
  
A moment later, after she'd disappeared, I heard her calling, "Doctor!" No anwer. About ten seconds, then a highly-offended, "Doctor!?" She returned to the door, face sheet-white, starting to close it on me and looking terribly regretful. "I'm sorry... The doctor's on a house call right now. You'll have to find another hospital..."  
  
I gaped at her. The nerve of her, in a situation like this, suggesting I go somewhere else, somewhere completely strange, and ask for help. The door snapped forcefully shut, and I slammed on it in a rage, tears spilling from my eyes. "Please! I don't have anywhere else to go!" There was no answer behind the door, not any sound whatsoever. "Please! Please save my sister!" I screeched, then kicked the door and turned, running blindly.  
  
I didn't know of any other hospital in town. I only got out to shop and work; otherwise, I was watching Dominique. It was fun, though; she was the sweetest thing in the world, I swear, and she never failed to make me smile when she wanted to. She could even cook if I helped her down the stairs. She was weak, but she never winced until then.  
  
I ran around a few different blocks for what seemed like hours, but I would come to know that I had only been on the move for about fifteen minutes before, while crossing the street, a car turned the corner and almost sped into me. The horn honked and the driver, who obviously drove for someone else because of his suit, looked offended, but the back two doors flew open and two men got out, one with long white hair and the other a man on television all the time: Sir Diego Mikado.  
  
The man with white hair, old and starting to wrinkle, looked at me wide-eyed, still approaching me. "Are you all right? Good heavens!" he exclaimed, looking at my sister. He must have sensed something was wrong with her. He looked at Mikado, horror-stricken. "To the hospital, quickly!" Diego Mikado ran the Mikado Corporation, a company working on the space project, and they were getting awfully close to sending their sattelite up into orbit. They said, within the week, it would be up. I expected him to turn up his nose and beckon the old man to the car and drive off. Instead...  
  
He bowed lightly to the old man. "At once, Sir," he murmured, getting back in the limousine. The white-haired one, dressed in a suit he looked uncomfortable in, carefully removed Dominique from my back and hurried to the open door with her in his arms, calling me after him. I gratefully followed, wet as I was.  
  
Once in the car, I closed the door and the driver hit the pedal with urgency, turning back toward the hospital I'd already been to. Swallowing hard, trying to get my breath, I shook my head and looked at Mikado. "I already went there, they won't help. The doctor's out on some d-damn housecall," I spluttered. He exchanged a look with the one he had called "Sir" respectfully, and nodded, leaning toward the driver. The old man was putting blankets over Dominique, myself sitting on the cushion opposite Mikado, who was telling his driver to turn and take them back to headquarters.  
  
Obviously the Mikado Corporation.  
  
Next I know, the old man was holding a towel out to me, setting a drink on my armrest to calm my nerves. After drying my long hair as best as I could, I took the drink with a nod. Mikado spoke as I did so. "My name is Diego Mikado, as you probably know, and this is my mentor, Wong Leung. I won't bother to ask who you are, as I know very well you're a Cross, as said the papers when your sister contracted this most-unfortunate illness. We will take you back to the company, get you cleaned up, and see what we can do."  
  
I laughed a bit, for seemingly no reason. "You have no idea how much I appreciate this, Sir."  
  
Diego, exchanging a warm look with Wong, half-smiled. "I think I may have an idea. What's your name, son?"  
  
Wong was watching Dominique with a critical eye, and a damp spot was rapidly forming beneath me from my rain-soaked clothing. "Dauragon... Dauragon Cassius Cross. I would have been able to do something sooner, but my father recently died and I've been..." I hesitated, but something in his green eyes, beneath dirty blonde hair fit for a normal worker, told me to go on. "...I've been making the medicine and administering it to her myself. I know the legal penalties involved, but..." I choked back a cry, and he closed his eyes and nodded understandingly.  
  
"The Mikado Corporation will not punish you, under one condition..." He grinned at me, and I furrowed my eyebrows, silently asking what it would take. "...that we will discuss at a more appropriate time," he finished quickly, opening the door to his left and climbing out before the car fully slowed to a stop. Wong gathered Dominique in his arms again, blanket in all, and I opened the door for both of us. The driver closed them even as we all dashed for the building.  
  
Womg broke away from us, up a flight of stairs to the direct right of the building's entrance, but Mikado, slowing to a walk, beckoned me to follow him. "Wong will summon us when he knows the status of your sister, Dauragon." Men and women bustled about the hallways, some gathering their things, most nodding to their boss, and I knew it was almost time for them all to leave for the night.  
  
Diego led me up and down many flights of stairs, also using elevators and escalators, until I was too lost to comprehend where we had even come from, but there were steadily less and less people as we went. I was under the impression no one else besides he knew how to get there either, at least among the usual workers, but he didn't speak the whole way.  
  
When we finally reached a room, it was gorgeous. A glass dome served as the ceiling, and a well-kept room lay beneath it. There was a bed with a white, silk sheet draped over it to my far right, but other than that, I didn't get to see anything, as Diego ushered me up the stairs right in front of us. At the top level, a gold railing served to keep anyone from falling off, and a beautiful grand piano sat there. A panther was laying atop it, but there was a kind of glossy luster to it, leading me to believe there was something strange about it. The panther's tail ticked back and forth, head on its paws, watching me through metallic eyes before stretching, hopping down, and walking to nuzzle Mikado's leg.  
  
He leaned down and scratched it behind the ear, still looking at me. "I'm going to go assist Wong with your sister, and I will return when we have news. Don't go wandering around, now, Mister Cross." He smiled, patting the panther. I got his message and nodded, the man then standing, turning on his heel, and leaving the room.  
  
I sat down at the bench in front of the piano, determined not to think about the worst that could happen. The panther hopped back to where it had been, rotated three times, and lay down, staring at me again. I flipped through the pages of the music at the piano, having taken lessons two years before, the music itself looking very old and worn. Finally, I found one that seemed to suit my mood, an ancient instrumental said to have been written when the composer's mother had just passed away. "Tears For Andrea."  
  
I let myself fall into pattern, having played this song at concerts many times and gotten standing ovations. I closed my eyes, much better when I did so, and heard the click of the panther's nails as it jumped from the piano. I suppose the whole piece, comforting to me because I remembered, quite clearly, it had been the last time my mother, father, sister, and I had all been present at one of my concerts, the final one. I remember looking out, seeing tears in Mother's eyes, Dominique agape in wonderment, and Dad's head back, eyes closed, looking content.  
  
When I finished, I opened my eyes and started. A shock of red out of the corner of my eye made me jump, followed by the realization that there was a dark-haired, narrow-eyed woman standing there smiling politely, arms folded. "Mister Cross, Diego called you?" I must have looked puzzled, because she tapped a device in her ear, giggling. "I'm one of Master Mikado's bodyguards, so I'm always listening to him."  
  
I just nodded dumbly, staring at her in embarrassment. I hadn't played in front of anyone for so long, I forgot how nervous I got. She burst out laughing, then shook her head. "Boy, you sure are gullible." I cocked a brow, not speaking. "My name's Kaldea Orchid. To be honest, I --"  
  
"Kaldea!" We both started and spun, Wong standing there looking defiant at the bottom of the stairs. Kaldea smiled and waved enthusiastically, calling out, "Hello, Wong! I was just about to tell the young man about the glories of bionoid experiments!" I sensed an edge in her tone, but held my words.  
  
Wong glared at her, and shook his head, giving her a grave look. "This is not the time, Miss Orchid," he growled, and Kaldea made a small grunting noise before winking at me and descending the stairs, leaving the room and shutting the door behind her.  
  
Leung's whole demeanor changed once she left, and he called me to him. I took the stairs slowly, putting my hands in my pockets -- I still had the chain -- and going to him. He looked at me with the most sincere expression I'd ever seen, and he didn't even need to speak, just walked be around, under the stairs, and pulled a lever hidden as a candle on the wall. A section of the same wall spun around, revealing a staircase.  
  
We descended that, not too far, into an average-looking bedroom, where there was artificial sunlight coming in through the window. Wong pulled out a chair in front of the bed and I sat down, feeling numb. My sister lay there, as serene as ever, but I knew it wasn't true, because her chest remained still. My eyes watered, and I hung my head, hands folded between my knees with my hair acting as a veil.  
  
Wong laid a hand on my shoulder and cleared his throat, as obviously saddened as I was, and tried to sound all-business. "I sincerely apologize for this, Dauragon, but there was nothing we could do. If she'd only been here ten minutes earlier, we could have given her more time, but, in all, her illness was --"  
  
"-- terminal," I murmured, and Wong fell silent. I was thinking, hatefully, what would have happened if the Dogs had minded their own business. Dominique could still be alive instead of laying in what was obviously Mikado's private chambers' bed, talking to me and telling me what she would want me to hear before she died...  
  
...just as she did every night before I tucked her in.  
  
Wong patted me on the shoulder. "We are willing to take care of the body, maybe even find a cure from the cells or something to that effect. It would...help anyone else to contract this." I nodded. I had become numb, but I had always wanted someone to do something like that. Watching Dominique suffer, I had considered doing it myself if I had had more time to figure out how. Wong pulled in a deep breath.  
  
"Master Mikado wishes to adopt you as his son...under one condition," he said softly, but the words weren't really getting through to me. My sister, dead in front of me at such a young age. I always thought she'd live for such a long time, outlive us all, really. I sighed, as if life weren't in my interests anymore.  
  
I asked the obvious question. "Condition?" I had just been adopted as Diego Mikado's son, and I didn't even flinch. Of course, they would understand. They had to understand that I had just carried my sister a mile and a half, nearly killed a man, and finally wound up still seeing her dead. Everything seemed useless then, as if life were just going to be a line of disappointments.  
  
Wong spoke, breaking me from my thoguhts. "You must become worthy of inheriting the Mikado Group." I turned and looked at him curiously. He elaborated. "Obviously you must excel scholastically, but you must also train your body and soul." I shrugged it off, not knowing what he was getting at besides me needing to be smart and tough and spiritual.  
  
I nodded, turning back to see the peaceful body of my sister, gripping the locket around my neck. Inside, she smiled at me. "I understand..." I said weakly, clearing my throat before going on. "I would be more than happy to return this favor in any way possible." Wong gripped my shoulder again. I heard him shift on his feet. Tears rolled down my cheeks.  
  
"You will learn all disciplines...for your sake, and for your sister's, as well," he said with a hinting tone. Later he would tell me about Kaldea Orchid and the project Mikado was working on, a human-to-cyborg transformation. He had done it on live people, but his goal this time was to try it on a dead one. His first few tries were failures, myself training with Wong while he did his experiments, keeping my mind off what would happen if Dominique's body didn't work.  
  
Five years later, the experiment still not successful, having lain dormant for a year as he collected research, my adoptive father, Diego Mikado, died. I remember the funeral. It was raining that day as well, as they lowered him into the ground, and Wong, aging fast but still strong, stood with me and allowed the two of us to be the last at the burial site.  
  
He spoke softly, as he had the day Dominique had died. "You have done well in succeeding your father... You're endured harsh training, and you've matured into a young man in whom anyone would be proud. Your father will rest easy knowing that his legacy lies in good hands. From now on, you will lead the Mikado Group," he told me, as if swearing me in.  
  
But things had been brewing in my mind, and right there, at the gravesite, I gave him his first command. "Contact Kaldea...tell her we're reopening the A2 project. This is a direct order, Wong," I sighed, and he nodded obediently, pulling out his phone.  
  
In just a year, Dominique was resurrected as a cyborg at the age she had died, and never aging again. But something had gone wrong in the process; she had been implanted with a chip by an unknown person that made her into a weapon, and in doing so had made her forget everything of her family, but remembering her name and how to speak and do all the basic things.  
  
Dominique Cross had no recollection of my.  
  
When Wong suggested that maybe that was for the best, I had proven how much he had taught me and broken his arm in three places with a sweep of my leg. But when my sanity truly snapped was the day Dominique escaped from the corporation, ending up in the hands of that Sion Barzahd.  
  
Until the day I died, they questioned why I went insane. When Kaldea, the only person who knew the entire story, died, there was no argument against a sudden snap.  
  
And maybe that was for the best.  
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-Fin  
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November 27  
10:33 A.M. - 5:41 P.M. 


End file.
